Soaring Spirits
by MagicPanda123
Summary: After the opera house burned down, Christine swore she would never sing again. As her life crumbles to pieces around her, her resolve is tested and she finds herself at Venice's premier opera house lonely, penniless, and starving. As Christine throws herself into music once again, a certain Phantom shows up and she must reconcile herself with her past.
1. Chapter 1

_Paris November 1871_

"I smiled when I heard the cry of an infant pierce the air after the hours of waiting. I wanted to simply lie down and sob in relief, for I had heard the screams of Christine as the child was being born. It had been a long, hard labour that would leave Christine weak for weeks to come. Raoul stopped his pacing as soon as he heard the infant.

'Thank God,' he said, 'It's finally ov-' his sentence was cut short by a different type of scream. It was a scream of pure horror and terror. Raoul's eyes grew to the size of saucers. A maid came running down the stairs looking as though she'd seen the devil.

She hastily curtsied and announced in a quivering voice, 'Th-the child was born with-with a c-c-cat l-lip, Lordsh-ship.' I swear, a look of revulsion flashed across Raoul's face before it was replaced with a look of concern.

'Take me to Christine,' Raoul said. The nurse nodded and led Raoul up the stairs. I followed them even though it was wrong, but Christine needed me. How horrible it was for her to be so misfortunate as to bear a child with a cat lip!" The story came tumbling from Meg Giry's lips as she sat wrapped in a blanket before her mother's fire.

"What happened next?" prompted Madame Giry.

"We ran up the stairs as quickly as we could and burst into the room. Christine lay on the bed crying and a nurse had put the child in a bassinet. Before I could see the child, Raoul ran to it and picked it up. He studied it for a moment before putting it back down in disgust. I don't know what's happened to him in the past months mother, but he seemed so angry so filled with hate! The Phantom-The Phantom _did_ something to him and he's different now.

'It's _his_ child isn't it?' Raoul snarled at Christine. We all knew who 'he' was of course, but Christine just cried harder.

'No, Ral,' she whimpered, 'It's our little girl, our little Charlotte! She's different, but-'

'But nothing! Take some time, recover, but get out of this house! I married down for you, defied my parents for you, but you betray me like this!'" Meg let out a little sob.

"What happened after that?" asked Madame Giry calmly.

"Raoul forced me out, but I stayed by the house watching, waiting. I kept watch for two entire weeks, every day from sunrise to three hours after sunset. Finally, she slipped out the back, this evening. She was holding her child and wrapped in a cloak. She had bruises on her face that I don't like to think about and her cloak was far too thin to be walking about Paris in November. I gave her my cloak which is why I'm so cold.

'Meg,' she said. It was a plea, 'I know you'll offer me a job back at the rebuilt opera house, but I can _never_ go back there, _never_. I'm done for; I know it. Take my child and care for her like you would care for your own child. I'll find someplace to go.' I tried to protest, I really did, but she ran like a deer. Where to, I haven't the faintest idea." A tear slipped down Madame Giry's face.

"All we can do now is pray for her," Madame Giry said, "I showed him where to find her! I led him to her to 'rescue' her, and now he has done this to dear Christine." Tears were flowing freely down Madame Giry's cheeks now. "He will pay, child. Even if we can't help Christine, we can avenge her."

* * *

 _Venice January 1872_

Liliana Ferrelli was woken in the night by a hammering on the back door of the opera house. She had been on duty at the door that night, but she'd dozed off. The knocking was frantic, so Liliana ran to the door as quickly as she could. She wondered who could be there seeing as it was pouring rain and also two o'clock in the morning. Liliana yanked the door open to reveal a young woman standing there.

"Please help me!" the woman said in accented Tuscan. She was young and would be pretty if she wasn't so thin. Her cheekbones were very defined against her thin cheeks and sunken brown eyes. Liliana probably could have made out her individual ribs if she had not been wrapped in so many layers of rags. Her hair might have once been brown and curly, but it was so matted together that Liliana guessed it hadn't been washed or brushed out in weeks. Her eyes, so filled with despair, seemed to be pleading.

"This is the Opera Venezia," Liliana whispered, "It is not a poor house. I can give you a few coins, but nothing else."

"I'm a good dancer," the woman replied, "and a better singer. I used to work at the Opéra Populaire before it burned down. I can do anything you need, but please give me a job! My husband has cast me out and I have nowhere left to go." Her eyes were so sad and empty that Liliana took pity on the woman.

"I'll fetch Signora Vincelli. What is your name?"

The woman hesitated a moment before answering, "Christine, Christine Giry. I am the orphaned niece of the ballet mistress at the Opéra Populaire." Liliana nodded and ran to fetch the ballet mistress, Signora Vincelli. If the girl could sing as well as she claimed, then Sigora Vincelli would be happy to take her on as a chorus girl. Liliana threaded through the passageways of the opera house. Some of its inhabitants were still awake drinking and doing other things that Liliana preferred not to think about. They laughed as Liliana jumped to keep out of their way. The inhabitants of the opera were hardly a morally wholesome crew.

Once Liliana reached Signora Vincelli's room she knocked timidly on the door. The ballet mistress would not likely take well to being awakened at so early an hour, but Liliana had no idea what to do with the poor girl. After a few moments Signora Vincelli came out pulling on a robe and looking displeased.

"Why have you come, Signorina Ferrelli? Is someone dying, because I cannot think of another suitable reason for you to come wake me up. You are talented, but not so talented that I would think twice about getting rid of you!" Liliana flinched at Signora Vincelli's harsh words.

"There is a girl at the door, Signora," stammered Liliana, "She says she is a good singer and wants a job here at the opera. She claims that she studied at the Opéra Populaire and that her husband has cast her out. Her name is Christine Giry and she is the niece of the ballet mistress at the Opéra Populaire" Signora Vincelli seemed to consider Liliana's words.

"Very well," Signora Vincelli said, "Lead me to this girl." Liliana led Signora Vincelli back through the opera house. This time the bums who were still awake stayed out of her way because Signora Vincelli was with her. The pair reached the door where Christine still stood looking cold and afraid. Signora Vincelli studied the girl for a moment.

"How old are you?" asked Signora Vincelli.

"Twenty-one," replied Christine.

"Are you with child?"

"No." Pain seemed to flicker through Christine's eyes when she said it.

"Why do you retain what I assume is your maiden name if you are married like you claim?" Something else flickered through Christine's eyes that was even more dark than the sadness it replaced. It was pure hatred.

"I will never again use his name. He is a monster."

"Why did he turn you out?" Signora Vincelli didn't want yet another drunkard or thief at the opera house.

"Because I was… incapable of bearing him a child." Liliana did not think Christine was telling the truth, but Signora Vincelli seemed satisfied.

"Liliana," she commanded, "Get her cleaned up. We'll see if she can actually sing tomorrow. If her hair can't be brushed out, then cut it to her ear lobes and bring her to me."

"Si, Signora," Liliana replied. After Signora Vincelli had left she turned to Christine, "Welcome to the Opera Venezia. For your sake, I hope you are not faint-hearted."

* * *

Fabrizio Aresco strode through the Venetian marketplace hawking his goods. Carnival was less than a month away and it was New Year's, so his father's mask-making business was doing well. As someone lurched into him, Fabrizio readjusted his own mask. It covered his entire face and was simply designed with a few blue swirls around the edges.

"Are you Signore Aresco, the esteemed mask-maker?" asked a voice behind him. Fabrizio whirled around to take in a man wearing a black cloak and a stark white mask that covered half of his face. The other half of his face was that of a mildly handsome man of middling age. Since he already had a mask, Fabrizio did not know why he was searching for Signore Aresco, Fabrizio's father.

"I am Signore Aresco's son," replied Fabrizio, "Why are you looking for him? I can sell you a mask as easily as he can."

"I have private business with him," replied the man, "If you won't take me to him, then tell him that Madame Giry's friend, O.G., is looking for him and will be in St. Mark's Square tomorrow." Fabrizio was puzzled by the man. He had no idea who Madame Giry or O.G. were, but he was interested in the man. Of course, the man was dangerous, but he was exciting.

"I would be more than happy to take you to him," Fabrizio heard himself saying. That traitor mouth of his!

"Thank you, Luca. That was your name wasn't it?" Fabrizio was sure that he had not told the mysterious man his name, but he knew a prompt when he heard it.

"I am Fabrizio. What is your name?"

"I am go by many names, but you may address me as Erik." The man said it as though it was a foreign word.

"Who is O.G.?" asked Fabrizio confused.

"It is one of my other names," Erik said. Fabrizio raised an eyebrow at his statement. Who was this mysterious man?

"If it pleases you, then I will now take you to my father," Fabrizio said to the man. They wound through the marketplace dodging acrobats and hawkers. It was a cold day, but Venice was alive with laughter and merriment. Carriages sloshed through the muck that covered the streets and the silhouettes of laughing noblemen could be seen within while maids jumped back from them trying to avoid being splashed by the slush. Children ran through the streets playing their games and getting in the way of guildsmen who were out of their forges or wood shops for their midday meal. Couriers raced around housewives standing about the stalls chatting about the upcoming festivities.

"No one here looks twice at two masked men," Erik remarked, "It was very different in most of the other places I've been. I have been very surprised by my first visit to Venice."

"If you have never been here, then where did you learn to speak Venetian?" Only a tiny portion of the newly founded Kingdom of Italy spoke Tuscan, the official language. In Venice, the most common language was Venetian. Tuscan was only for the people of Florence, foreigners, the army, and for theatre, books, and opera. Very few people outside the province of Veneto spoke the Venetian dialect that Erik was now speaking fluently with the barest trace of a French accent.

"I once traveled on a ship full of Venetian sailors. I picked it up from them," replied Erik.

"Have you traveled much?" Fabrizio had never left the newly founded Kingdom of Italy, so he was eager to hear stories of faraway places. He had always dreamed of going to other lands that merchants and sailors spoke of, but he had never gotten the courage to pack up all his belongings and simply leave.

"I've seen the entire world," Erik replied, "I traveled with gypsies when I was young, and even after I settled down I still traveled often until my Christine came along."

"Who is Christine?" Fabrizio asked eagerly. He was a romantic at heart and was eager to get Erik to speak more. Instead, the half of Erik's face that Fabrizio could see darkened.

"I have said too much," was his entire reply, "How far to you father's shop?" Fabrizio pulled him around a corner.

"Here," Fabrizio said pointing to the shop proudly. It was not the largest shop in Venice, but Fabrizio thought it was the best. In the window display were masks of every colour, shape, and design. There were delicate half-masks that were covered in jewels and feathers, masks shaped like birds faces, masks carved into expressions of pain or laughter, and every other type of mask that one could imagine. Looking past the window display, Fabrizio saw the interior of the shop which looked much the same as the window display. Masks were stacked up on every available surface and hung on the walls.

"Can we go in?" asked Erik throwing Fabrizio from his thoughts.

"Of course," replied Fabrizio. Fabrizio pushed the door open and a bell chimed. In the corner, sitting at a clutter filled desk, Signore Aresco, Fabrizio's father, looked up from the mask he was working on. His entire desk was covered in supplies needed to make masks. There were several apprentices making masks in the backroom, but Signore Aresco loved his craft too much to let it go even when his eyesight went. Fabrizio considered his masks to be the most exquisite in all of Venice.

"Who's that you've brought me?" asked Signore Aresco standing up and pulling on a pair of eyeglasses.

"This man claims to be a friend of a certain Madame Giry," replied Fabrizio, "Do you know him?" The old man studied Erik intensely for a moment.

"Are you O.G.?" Signore Aresco asked him.

"I am," Erik replied, "but these days I am going by the name of Erik. Madame Giry said that you would be able to offer me work if I came to you. I carved the mask I wear now." Signore Aresco looked over the mask.

"Would you please take off the mask so that I might examine it?" Erik looked concerned.

"I apologize, good Signore, but, as I am sure Madame Giry told you, I should feel uncomfortable without it on." Fabrizio knew what his father would say, but he still cringed when he said it.

"Fabrizio, take off your mask and show this man your face." Fabrizio slowly lifted his hands to the ties on his mask and began slowly undoing them. He saw Erik's eyes widen as Fabrizio's face was revealed. That horrible, grotesque face that had been marred past all recognition, "Now Erik," Signore Aresco said in a kind but firm voice, "Take off your mask and show us your face." With trembling fingers Erik lifted the mask off his face.


	2. Chapter 2

"Good morning, sleepy head!" Christine groaned at Liliana's perversely cheery voice. It would take more than two weeks for Christine to become used to Liliana's optimistic morning greetings. Even after years in the opera business, Christine had never been a morning person.

"Five more minutes?" Christine pleaded rolling over and pulling the covers over her face. It had been a nice change to sleep in a real bed despite having to share a room with all of the other chorus girls.

"Rehearsal is in half an hour. Signora Vincelli will have our heads if we aren't there on time." Christine groaned again and sat up.

"I'd rather face a rampaging boar!" Christine exclaimed. Liliana giggled and the other chorus girls glanced at them quizzically. Liliana and a few others were advanced enough to understand the language in which they sang, but most of the chorus girls spoke only Venetian. Christine was trying to learn the strange dialect, but it was slow work. She managed along as best she could with Liliana's help.

Christine dressed in a hurry and walked to breakfast with Liliana. They chatted quietly on the way and Christine was disgusted as always to see- and smell- that the denizens of the Opera Venezia were already as pathetically drunk as the occupants of the Opéra Populaire probably would be at that time. Laundresses and costumers had begun their work for the day hours before Christine had woken. The stage hands who weren't otherwise engaged in antagonizing the entire opera house rushed about carrying props. As Liliana and Christine passed by the quarters given to the opera stars, ballet mistress, and conductor Christine heard Ana-Maria Espiña yelling about something. The opera star Ana-Maria reminded Christine of Carlotta, and not in a good way.

"The premiere of _Aida_ is only a week away," Liliana chattered excitedly as they scampered through the passageways, "Lydia's fallen very ill, so it looks as though they'll need someone else to play the high priestess." Lydia was the understudy to Ana-Maria.

"Why don't they just have one of the advanced girls who are taking private lessons with Signora Vincelli do it? It's hardly a role that some random person could sing, but there are _some_ people here who could do it. Perhaps they'll put you in the role" Christine left it unsaid that the role of high priestess actually took the ability to sing, a quality that was not found in most chorus girls. After coming from the Opéra Populaire, Christine had not been too impressed by the quality of the singing or dancing found at the Opera Venezia.

"I was thinking that Signora Vincelli might agree to have you sing it. I'm a better dancer than I am a singer, but your singing is simply sublime." Christine was stunned for a moment. The last time Christine had been forced to stand in for a missing person it had ended with her in the Phantom's lair.

"Signora Vincelli will never agree; I'm still too thin to be given a major role in anything." They'd managed to get Christine's hair into a presentable state, but she still remained dreadfully thin. Christine didn't like to think too much about the way her life had gone over the past few months. She sighed when she remembered it had only been a year before that she had been preparing to star in _Don Juan_.

"That's the beauty of it!" exclaimed Liliana, "It's an offstage role, but it will put your voice on display wonderfully. If the right people are listening, then it could launch your career. I know that Signora Vincelli was impressed with your voice and that she will agree."

The pair rounded another corner into the dining hall. As they stood in line waiting for their portion of porridge they gossiped and chattered away. They continued to receive odd glances because of the language they conversed in, but for the most part blended in with the crowd. They sat at their usual table with Liliana's friends among the advanced opera students. Normally they didn't fraternize with chorus girls, but they had allowed Christine into their group once they'd seen how well she could sing.

As Christine scraped the last of her porridge from her bowl, Signora Vincelli's familiar voice said something rapidly in Venetian. Due to the similarities between Tuscan and Venetian, Christine was able to discern the gist of the message to be that the dancers were to go to rehearsal. Christine's guesses were confirmed when Liliana and the others stood up and deposited their bowls in the stacks of dirty plates and utensils. They walked down the hall to the sound of talking and laughing. The Opera Venezia's production of _Aida_ was to be the Venice premiere, so it was imperative that everything that everything was perfect.

Signora Vincelli said something else and Liliana whispered, "Our Aida is still abed, so we will begin with Act 1, Scene 2." Christine nodded and stepped back. She was not in that scene, but it was a beautiful dance so she lingered to see it. As the music began Liliana stepped forward and began to dance her solo. Christine hated to think it, but Liliana would give Meg a run for her money. She leapt and twirled as though she was simply part of the music. Her body twisted and swayed like a bird's in the air and she was sure in every movement.

Other dancers came in after a few bars. At the point where the High Priestess was meant to sing her solo, Signora Vincelli waved to signal a stop. Something was shouted in Venetian and everyone began whispering in hushed tones. Liliana rushed forwards to Signora Vincelli and began frantically whispering in her ear. Suddenly, the woman beckoned Christine over.

"Signorina Ferrelli claims that you are able to sing the part of the High Priestess, Signorina Giry," said Signora Vincelli in Tuscan "Is this statement correct?" Liliana smiled slightly at Christine.

"It is, Signora," Christine replied. The situation might have been all too reminiscent of what had happened in Paris, but Christine couldn't bring herself to disappoint Liliana.

"Let us hear you sing the," Signora Vincelli said. She barked something in Venetian to the dancers. Immediately, the music began at Liliana's solo. Christine could not bring herself to pay attention to the beautiful dance this time because she was so nervous.

 _Calm,_ Christine told herself, _last time I was the star; this time I'll just be doing a minor role off-stage._ The music piqued and Christine began singing the first few trembling bars. As she gained confidence the memories came back to her:

 _The music wrapped around her as she sang_ Think of Me _. It seemed to erase everything except for Christine and the music. Everyone at the opera stood transfixed as Christine's voice soared and plummeted through the song. Suddenly, the music changed and Christine was back below the opera house journeying through the secret passages and catacombs to the Phantom's lair. Now it was his song that wrapped around. The barely-concealing fabric of Christine's clothing stuck to her damp skin. He looked into her eyes and Christine saw such longing there that she was afraid. Once again, the scene changed and Christine was wrapped in the Phantom's arm singing_ Point of No Return _. His arms wrapped around her, feeling her, breathing in the scent of her. Against her better judgement, she sank back into his arms wanting to be with him. She would stay with him, do whatever he willed of her, and give herself completely up to him._

"Christine, Christine! Please wake up!" Christine opened her eyes. She was safe at the Opera Venezia in her bed. Liliana hovered over her and sweat covered the blankets. How had she gotten back to her bed?

"I'm awake," Christine mumbled, "What happened?"

"You were singing and then you collapsed. We brought you back here and you started screaming about someone called 'The Phantom'. Who is it? What happened, Christine, which makes you so afraid? Let me help you." Christine blinked. Whatever happened, Christine could never tell anyone of the Phantom, The Angel in Hell.

"It's fine, Liliana. I'm feeling better already," Christine lied, "Just a spell. Please don't worry about me."

"Of course," Liliana replied, but her eyes said otherwise. Liliana now had reason to suspect that all was not as it seemed. She would ask questions now, questions that Christine could not, could never, answer.

* * *

Fabricio moved through the marketplace as gracefully as a cat. Erik was back at the shop with the apprentices and it was not a completely unwelcome change to be rid of the surly man. Erik was an excellent mask maker, but his personality was distant at best. He seemed to be angry at the world for some untold injustice.

"Fabricio!" exclaimed a familiar feminine voice. Fabricio turned to see Liliana Ferrelli striding towards him through the sea of people, "It's been ages since I've seen you last!" She was standing next to him by that point. He kissed her cheeks in greeting.

"I have been busy. A new man has come to work for my father and it has been my job to look after him. He's not an especially agreeable man, but he carves masks that fit a person's face like a glove."

"You too?" Liliana asked, "There's been a new woman at the ballet, a Christine Giry. She's a wonderful singer, but she's so sad all the time. Poor dear doesn't speak a lick of Venetian. I feel as though she's got some story that I don't know, but maybe that's just me being a romantic fool as usual." The name Christine sparked interest in Fabricio. Hadn't Erik mentioned a Christine? The last name Giry also rang a bell but Fabrizio couldn't quite remember where he'd heard it before.

"I swear I've heard the name Giry before, she doesn't happen to be from Paris does she? It's only that Erik, the new man, mentioned that he used to know someone called Christine there. She seemed very important to him." Christine was a common name, but surely for both of them to show up in Venice was no mere coincidence.

"My Lord!" exclaimed Liliana, "Christine said she'd come here after her husband kicked her out. You don't think…?"

"I don't believe that Erik was married. I suppose I could ask, but-"

"No," Liliana interrupted, "Christine was so upset when she spoke of her past life. I don't want to trouble her with it. You and I shall investigate, but I'm sure nothing shall come of it." Fabricio knew that she wouldn't want to investigate if she was sure of that, but he didn't voice his feelings. Erik had seemed so horribly sad when he'd spoken of Christine. Perhaps Fabricio could understand him better if the pair looked into this.

"Of course, Liliana, but I must get on now. There will be no meat tonight if I do not sell enough masks." Liliana chuckled softly. She knew that Fabricio's family was rich enough that they could eat meat with every meal of the day including breakfast if they so desired.

"Wait," she said, "I want to buy a mask for darling Christine. She's never been to a Venetian Carnival before, so she won't have a mask. Poor dear, I wish there was something I could do to lift whatever burden she's carrying off her chest. Let me just grab the money." She began fumbling with the strings of her belt pouch.

"No charge," Fabrizio told her, "I still owe you for those theatre tickets. I think I know just the mask for her. Swing by the store sometime this week and I'll give it to you."

"You are too kind," she said blushing red, "but I really must get on now."

"I as well," Fabrizio said, "I promised Father that I'd be home for the noon meal."

"Until we meet again," she said gaily,

"Until we meet again!" he responded enthusiastically sweeping into a bow, grabbing her hand, and raising it to where his lips would have been had he not been wearing a mask, "You must come for dinner soon," he suggested.

"I'd like that," she replied blushing more. She curtsied and ran off through the throngs of people pushing through the markets. Fabrizio watched after her with a silent wish in his eyes until he too turned around determined to get on with his work. It was then that he realized where he'd heard the name Giry before, Erik's own lips. It appeared that the situation was about to get more complicated than it already was.

* * *

Hello! Thanks for reading my story. Just to clear things up, this story is almost completely based off the movie because I do not own the book. Reviews are encouraged and help me feel inspired to write. I love your criticism!


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